When you eat your smarties ...

Who remembers this jingle?

              When you eat your smarties, do you eat the red ones last?

              Do you suck them very slowly, or crunch them very fast

              Eat that candy coated chocolate but tell me when I ask –

              When you eat your smarties, do you eat the red ones last? J

I have no recollection of red smarties being tastier than the other colored ones, do you? But somehow this marketing tactic elevated the sales of this candy, playing on the assumption that ‘saving the best for last’ is alluring.  This ditty consumed my mind last Saturday as we were driving to the ‘last’ of our division and district visits. Gusii is one of our smaller regions with just eight corps comprising the District. It’s a four and a half hour drive from Kakamega so we travelled on Friday in order to be in the area for the Saturday morning Councils. When the leaders met us, we were informed the venue the next morning was the Kenguso corps which would be an hour’s drive, giving us the opportunity to see another side of the area. We were happy with the plan.

To our pleasant surprise, this one hour drive had amazing scenery, some of the prettiest we had seen in the country.  It’s an area called the Tea Zone. After leaving the town where our hotel was, and manoeuvering past the congested business area, we couldn’t stop gazing out the window.  The Kenguso Corps was located up in the mountains, so we were climbing higher and higher with each mile. The elevation gave us a spectacular bird’s eye view of so many sloping hills peppered with lush green tea plantations. Tea and coffee are the two main products grown in the area and the fields were so ripe.  Many areas in the country, like this one, have been blessed with rains this year during the hot, dry season. With our windows down, we could feel the freshness that had resulted from recent precipitation.

Most of the journey was on tarmac (paved) road, except for the last 10 km.  The rough gravel road had absolutely no negative impact on our drive though because the landscape and stunning view captured our gaze right to the end. The only thing any better than the gorgeous terrain was the delightful welcome we received at the corps compound.  Usually when we show up for these Councils, the Officers and sometimes local officers greet us but today the yard was filled not just with the adults but with dozens of children!  These beautiful energetic young people were waving, singing, clapping, playing tambourines, and shouting “Karibu Sana” (welcome so much!) as we drove onto the grounds. Our hearts were full.  We exited the car where a pretty little girl named Rose Mary held out her hand with a bouquet of flowers and said “Welcome to Kenguso!”

Following the lovely welcome, we were ushered to one side where both of us planted a tree – something we love doing.  Our newly rooted shrubs were embedded next to some growing trees planted a few years ago by the former Territorial leaders, Commissioners Ken & Jolene Hodder, a rich environmental tradition for leaders. 

We spent the morning teaching and sharing with the local leaders on the idea of ‘Mobilizing Forward’, a continuation of last year’s international focus on what it means to ‘mobilize’.  We based our theory on various Biblical perspectives of advancing into the future, willing to make necessary changes, take godly courage, and never forget our attention to the mission.  Morris led an interactive time of understanding the purposes and membership of Pastoral Care Councils and Corps Councils and the need to work together. The attendees were quite engaging with lots of questions.  The amusing part of the meeting was the children peering through the windows or standing in the open door way, watching the mzungu (white man) teacher.  A few made their way inside and sat at the back – quite acceptable since they are future PCC members after all.  We ended the Councils with a time of prayer and then moved outside for a group photo, including the children.

Assuming we were done what was planned for the day, we stood around chatting. Before long, we were invited to see the Secondary School adjacent to the Corps. Since we always love school visits, we gladly agreed and walked across the field. The principal and Board of Management director met with us to share their concerns for the 142 students who attend the school and the need for upgrading with boarding dormitories.  Boarding is always seen as the better way of giving students optimal learning time and a more progressive environment to focus on their studies. As we emerged from the high school visit, we heard the sound of children’s voices singing again. Delightful!  It was the Primary School students, just a short distance away, eager to have us see their facility too. With the children gleefully leading the way, we trekked up the rocky path.  Here the faculty shared how desperately this school needs support for access to clean water as well as their desire to construct a unit for children with disabilities, much needed in the area. The water issue was definitely an eminent one. Currently the primary students walk 2 ½ km each way to a water source every day.  They longed for some on site water tanks and eventually their own bore hole. As always, we couldn’t make any promises but the staff were encouraged to put their needs in writing and we would see what could be done. Perhaps getting some water tanks could be possible in the near future.

Outside the staff room, the students were eagerly waiting to entertain us with more singing as they waited for us to chat with them.  After some greetings, they followed us to the edge of the compound with more happy tunes, one of which was interpreted to us as: “The visitors have such beautiful hair!” We laughed so hard!  

What a glorious day this had turned out to be.  Perhaps not unlike eating red smarties at the end of the pack, this final District visit was definitely a sweet treat. 

Kenguso Primary School Visit

Leaders and future leaders in the Gusii District 

Justice and safety

Justice and safety

It was a typical warm Kenya evening. The temperatures had dropped slightly. Sitting outside for our evening meal was quite enjoyable. We recently moved a small table to our front deck to take full advantage of savoring time in the setting sun. Shaded perfectly by the tall trees in the garden, this open-air dining room is a pretty sweet spot.  Steeping tea in the ceramic teapot we found in the quarters is now our favourite way of sipping our after-dinner brew, along with indulging in some of my homemade oatmeal cookies for dessert. We truly love the quietness after a busy day at the office.

Not long after the last drop of tea was gone, we started to do some reading. Lots of evenings we have work to catch up on but tonight we were happy to have space for one of our favourite pastimes. Erica had just given Morris a new book for his birthday, called “When breath becomes air”. He was taken by the true story of a neuro surgeon who became a patient, battling a life-threatening lung disease.  He decided to enjoy more of the evening outside while he read. I had begun an intriguing read by Amanda Lang, a Canadian journalist, called “The Beauty of Discomfort”. The first chapter tweaked my interest and I was eager to continue. Shortly after we got lost in our books, we heard it.  Bang. Bang. Bang. Stop. Then again. This time even more. What was that? It couldn’t be fireworks.  Gunfire?  Feeling some of his own discomfort, Morris came inside where I was.  The shots were loud and sounded close, though we knew it must be outside the gate.  Where was this coming from? And why? 

A few days earlier, the country’s political situation had been disturbed again when the Opposition leader, Mr. Raila Odinga, was illegally ‘sworn in’ as the ‘People’s President’.  There didn’t seem to be a lot of fallout, for which everyone gave a sigh of relief. However, we knew that earlier in the day, riots had erupted in two areas of the country – Kisumu and Migori. Was it possible that Kakamega was now being affected by violence too? We had prayed for peace many times over the past year, because of the unsettled atmosphere of unrest due to the government elections. It felt like we were being called to pray again. We contacted some friends who we knew would join us in seeking God’s protection.

Naturally feeling unsettled about the noise, we hurried next door to talk to our neighbors.  They were also intrigued by the sounds of the shooting and as baffled as we were about the source. The noise we assumed was gunfire lasted nearly an hour, til finally the commotion dissipating into the distance.  No one on the grounds seemed to know what had happened, not even the guards.  Eventually we went to bed with the familiar breath prayers - “Safety Lord. Please keep us all safe.”

The following day we were enlightened. The commotion we heard the night before was gun shots. In a neighborhood not far from Shimalavandu, our compound, a large group of people in the community had taken the law into their own hands. Apparently a family in the area had been causing a lot of chaos for a long time. Fear was escalating for the neighbors as fighting and violence (even killings) were going on and the police had not responded to the constant complaints of those feeling traumatized.   Acting as vigilantes, a community uprising ensued. The family was driven out of the area and their house burned to the ground.  The gunfire we heard was the police responding to the mutiny.  As emotions soared out of control, the crowd became unruly and the shots were fired into the air to manage the disturbance and move the people out.

It was with mixed feelings that we heard what had happened.  Thankful that political unrest was not the cause of the disturbance, what had occurred was still unsettling.  Where was justice? What measures have to be taken to ensure people are safe? What recourse did the community have?  When those trusted to protect the community do not fulfill their duty, what options are there? AND if everyone became their own law enforcer, how would order and safety ever be present or reliable? Imagine the chaos that would bring. So, what happens when victims feel they have no voice, no advocate?  When does the end justify the means? Are there more questions than answers?   

In any community or country, peace and safety can only come when there is a trustworthy and organized system of the administration of justice.  Around the globe, we long for country officials and community leaders to be men and women of integrity and reliability. We desire governments and law enforcers who are dependable and who work for the welfare and democratic rights of all citizens, shaping a just world for everyone. Unfortunately this desired ideal is sometimes out of reach and often that means many people suffer.

Morris and I have felt very safe living in Kenya. We have had almost no fear of being hurt but we aware that there are those around us who have been adversely affected by violence – some just because they’ve been in the wrong place at the wrong time, others because they chose to be involved. This is not unique to Kenya.

Like many of you, I long for the day when all people live together in harmony, and safety and justice truly becomes everyone’s right.

The well is deep

February 09, 2018

The well is deep

With a long rope, she lowered the 15 litre yellow plastic container further and further down into the well.  The concrete platform veiled the depth of the cistern that she and many neighbors around the church compound used to retrieve water.  We had just arrived for Officers Councils in the Webuye Division, about an hour’s drive from Kakamega, when I saw this beautiful girl carrying out her daily chores. Her name was Gloria.  I was curious and, with permission, peered into the yawning reservoir.  Surprisingly for me, though without cause, the water appeared far below the surface.  It had been a while since I stared into a well.  As this slender young girl gently pulled back her vessel, hand over hand, up to the surface, I marvelled at the sight of the crystal clear contents spilling out.  I was delighted to see the water wasn’t cloudy but unsure if what looked pure actually was. Did the water still need to be filtered and boiled before consumption?  Likely. 

Water is a priceless commodity.  Being susceptible to disease or merely staying alive is greatly affected by access to clean drinking water. There are more than 780 million people around the world (over 300 million in Sub-Saharan Africa) who are without access to safe water. In 2010, the United Nations General Assembly recognized the human right to clean water and sanitation, which are essential to the realisation of all human rights and still so many live without it.  It’s staggering. For years, I know I have taken for granted that I routinely reach to turn the tap in the bathroom or kitchen sink and there it is, accessible and abundant but this is not the case for everyone. For many, it doesn’t happen at all. For others, like my young friend, it is a daily laborious task to have what is critical for survival.  This girl had to literally ‘go deep’ to retrieve what she needed for herself and her family. It took effort.

Sometimes what we need (or want) most in life isn’t easily attained.  While we believe the Creator God meets our needs, it can require our cooperation or it can be dependent on the partnership of others.  It can mean labour, endurance, and strategy as well as a willingness to keep going when circumstances are tough and the hope that someday things will be better.  

Hundreds of years ago, another woman found water at a well when she needed it most. Her name was Hagar and her story is found in the Bible. She was a loyal employee (a servant) but she was despised and treated badly.  Though possibly not innocent in the conflict, she was in many ways, a victim of injustice. She became a fugitive, running aimlessly into a dry, barren dessert but amazingly found herself near a spring where she not only found water, but an angel appeared and gave her hope (Genesis 16).  Sometime later Hagar has a son and once again she is ‘sent away’, this time with a small child and limited resources to survive on.  When the supplies are quickly depleted, Hagar draws her crying son to her breast, seeking to console her hungry boy. In her sunken despair, she cries out to God and for a second time, water appears (Genesis 21:17-21). Hagar declares a beautiful name for the Creator. “You are the God who sees me” Genesis 16:13.  A spring in the desert, water from a well, and hope is renewed.

We are so dependent on water. Before the first breath of life is taken, it is a form of water (the amniotic sac) that protects the fetus, allowing a baby to develop.  At the end of life, water is often the final physical requirement. It brings and sustains life and it is a right for all of us to have.  

It is not coincidental that the symbol of our Christian salvation is also water.  Similar to my chance meeting with Gloira in Webuye, Jesus had an unplanned conversation with a woman at a well, and says to her: “look to me and I will give you life-giving water … everyone who drinks normal everyday water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give, will never thirst” (John 4:10 & 14 – my paraphrase).

How can we help others have access to the water they need? The annual Partners in Mission campaign in Canada as well as the Gifts of Hope initiatives provide a great opportunity for you to give so that The Salvation Army can help provide such life essentials as water (and other basics) to dispense hope around the world.  As quoted in one of this year’s PIM videos:  Hope is giving someone a reason to expect something better for tomorrow and in the future.  

Two days ago we received an email form an Officer friend with an offer from a non-Salvationist  to provide funds to construct a well in Kenya.  We were so grateful.  We know not everyone has resources to provide such large amounts of money for big projects but never forget that every small contribution helps. 

When you reach for your tap today, or when you flush your toilet, take a moment to be thankful. And whenever you know there is an opportunity to support helping provide safe drinking water to those in the world who are without it, think deeply about what you can do and then act.

Whether it is physical or spiritual water, I pray that someday everyone will have access and drink freely.

Song # 430, Salvation Army Song Book

“The well is deep and I require a draught of the water of life.

But none can quench my soul’s desire

For a draught of the water of life.

Till one draws near who the cry will heed,

Helper of men in their time of need

And I believing find indeed

That Christ is the water of life.”

Enjoy your H2O today. J

Two Eggs

Two Eggs

No matter what is going on in my life, I never want to overlook moments of sweetness that surface in unexpected moments. Two weeks ago Morris and I were guests at a corps. The vibrant worship and large number of children and youth who attended inspired us. We were privileged to be there. As the service concluded, we were shaking hands at the door when kindness met us with a purity that quickened our hearts with humility. In the midst of a long line of soldiers greeting us with their warm handshakes and ‘Ahsante Sana’, a lady gently reached into her purse and placed a fresh egg in each of our hands. We were speechless. A fragile token of appreciation carefully brought from home and watched cautiously so that it would not be broken, was now tenderly given to us with the warmest smile of gratitude. These foreign leaders had come to be with her people that day and she was grateful.  How could we respond adequately? We returned her gesture with a soft touch and a ‘thank you’ that was surely insufficient. Two eggs. The widow’s mite. We had never received such a sweet expression of gratitude. We would not forget.

It is not the size of your gift but the measure of your heart felt intention that truly matters.  Giving when only God knows the sacrifice. An offering that blesses another is not equated with size. Or maybe it is.

Luke 21:1-4 (The Message) “Just then Jesus looked up and saw the rich people dropping offerings in the collection plate. Then he saw a poor widow put in two pennies. He said, “The plain truth is that this widow has given by far the largest offering today. All these others made offerings that they’ll never miss; she gave extravagantly what she couldn’t afford—she gave her all!”

First blog of the new year - thankful and possible

January, 2018

Where to begin writing in a near year? I can’t seem to shake two words ruminating in my head and heart - thankful and possible.

A spirit of thankfulness should never wander far from any of us.  Regardless of the imperfect, flawed, struggling world around us or the truth of personal pain, frustration, or sorrow, a vacuum of thankfulness must never reside. Gratitude feeds the body, mind, and soul and keeps us well.

Rising to the surface for me in my list of thankfulness includes:

·       Conviction that an invisible God is present always, even when I don’t feel Him or hear Him.

·       A family who are well and love each other.

·       Good health.

·       Friends who keep in touch and those who inspire me.

·       Visits back to Canada and the support making it possible. Plus those who made the long journey here to spend time with us.

·       The anticipation that our children and grandchildren are coming to Kenya this year!

·       The stretching of our faith and a trust, though sometimes weak, that enable us to lead, learn, and live while facing and accepting our limits.

·       Lots of reading because we’ve chosen to live without television. Great blessing!

·       Unexpected surprises – another Canadian and finding turnip. J

·       People who pray for us.

·       The truth that it’s okay to have questions without answers, pain without balm, and sorrow without comfort (phrases borrowed from Ted Loder), but it’s never okay to be silent when injustice is present or to ‘pass by on the other side’ when a neighbor needs help.

·       Face time and Skype

·       And so much more … oh yea, that I only had one episode of a lizard in my bed!

Let thankfulness prevail, Lord. Every day of this new year.

And what of that which is possible? A new year, laced with uncertainty. What lies before us? Only God full knows.  I cannot see. He can. He does. Where will I participate most fully in what is right and good? Who will I help? Who will help me/us? None of us live without the need of others. We were made for community, not isolation. We are interdependent.  Whose path will I cross this year? Who will be the Samaritan woman that I can converse with when I’m sitting by the well, living out my every day routines?  What prospects are mine to be kind, compassionate, and grace filled? I don’t want to miss them.

 I was given a gift for Christmas - a new Bible. It’s called “Introducing God’s justice”.  It comes with an invitation to read the Scripture to discover where God meant justice to prevail, his invitation for us to join Him in the same mission and to find our own story in God’s restorative plan.

I began my Bible reading at the beginning – not a bad place to start. J Already in Genesis I’ve been reminded of God’s grace and judgment, judgement and grace – a recurring cycle. God always has room for redemption. He banishes Adam and Eve from the garden but then clothes them with a garment to cover their shame. Cain is judged for killing his brother but is protected from the wrath of others. The earth is wiped out by a flood but restored through a man named Noah.  He is a God of second chances. I’ve known that many times in my life. I’ve seen it here in Kenya too - second chances for prostitutes, street boys, those who are poor, lonely, mistreated and broken.  And often those second chances happen through God’s people who are simply willing to be attentive and engaged.  There are countless opportunities and possibilities to dispense grace and increase redemption in our fallen world.  And you don’t have to be such a perfect person to be part of making it happen. Neither Adam and Eve, nor Abraham, nor Noah were spotless. Their flaws were quite apparent.  Evidently God isn’t waiting for the unsoiled, faultless. He simply waits for the willing. And perhaps, the thankful.

Happy New Year to all of us in 2018

Homeless No More

December 20, 2017

Homeless no more … someday

Homelessness always seems sad to me. Morris and I declare emphatically “our home is our refuge.”  A warm space where being yourself is just fine.  A table that welcomes you, a comfy couch to rest, a habitat to play games, watch TV, read or just chat. It’s a corner of the world where people matter above all.  It’s private, inviting, and smells good. How many times have we been travelling, only to return with “It’s so good to be home!”

To have no home seems unfair. Unjust.  Unsettling. It’s often baffled me that Jesus began his life as homeless. There was no room in the inn. No place for a mother to comfortably bear her first born baby. Not even one room. It was a barn.  A home for animals, not humans.  A cow’s feeding trough instead of a basinet cradled the infant.  I think of the birth of our second grand child this year.  Erica and Jeff chose a home birth.  In the cosiness of their bedroom with the sweetness of familiar surroundings, Oliver arrived late one April evening.  Snuggled up in the next room was big sister, Anna-Lynne.  It was wonderful for them - pretty perfect. What a contrast to our Saviour’s birth.

If we believe that God planned for the incarnation of His Son, undoubtedly he prearranged every detail. What did God have in mind when he sent His greatest gift to the world in such conditions? David Jeremiah in his book, Why the Nativity, ponders it too.   “If God could mobilize a star from a distant galaxy to invite wise men from the East, couldn’t he make one humble room available?” For some reason, God designed a form of homelessness for Jesus, beginning with his birth.  The delivery room was a seedy shed and, not long after, his parents were forced to take Jesus on the road, escaping the tyranny of King Herod. They became refugees. Home would not come easily for the son of God.

This was just the beginning. Follow his story, and it was perpetual for Christ.  At the age of 12, Mary and Joseph took him to Jerusalem during the Passover. Instead of returning home with his family, Jesus wandered off.  This time the Temple, not a house, was his comfort place. Later, when people were eager to follow Jesus, he made no promise of domestic security should they choose to be on his team. Luke 9:58 “Foxes have dens to live in, and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” Would homelessness be one of the costs for these new followers? It’s a bit of a mystery. 

I wonder. Is it God’s intention that one of our greatest comforts, home, is something we should not cling so tightly to that we forget those who are without it? Are Christians meant to intentionally associate and empathize with those who are displaced, those who drift without a roof to call their own? I think of our boys program adjacent to THQ, young men whose life’s circumstances have resulted in them living on the streets.  Last week we celebrated that four of the boys would make it to high school this year because of the investment the Salvation Army has made in them. Five days a week they trek to the house next door to receive academic instruction and a small meal. It isn’t providing a permanent dwelling, but it is helping.

Since living in Kenya, I have seen many homes that are far from luxurious, poles apart from the average North American dwelling.  It is essential that everyone secures a home lot, including space for growing food and a resting ground for your remains when you die.  It is their guarantee of somewhere to retire and a plot for burial. Some houses have mud floors. A large number have outdoor toilets. Many have no electricity. Almost all have a mobile kitchen, cooking outside on an open fire. But these homes are just as important as any Canadian bungalow.  And people take pride in them. One of the few similarities at Christmas time here is that on Christmas Day, families gather to feast together. Not turkey though – it’s chicken, goat, or a cow.

There is no question.  A home is a good thing. And while Jesus was born homeless and lived an itinerant life, one of the exciting promises is when the end of time comes and all of creation is fully reconciled, there will be a home for everyone!  John 14:2 “In my Father’s house are many rooms … I am going there to prepare a place for you.”  Space for all!  When God’s Kingdom is complete, not only will there be ‘no more sickness, no more pain, no more crying’ and not only will all the streets be paved, but finally homelessness will be no more.

Happy Christmas everyone!

Let's celebrate - Christmas and school!

Four boys are off to high school …

Christmas Questions

Christmas and some gnawing questions

Advent and Christmas 2017 takes a twist for us.  For years, our calendar filled up with familiar seasonal activities, outreach to needy families, personal preparations, and always wondering if we will have snow on December 25. While stationed at Grand Falls Citadel about ten years ago, the meaning of Advent especially deepened for us during our Sunday morning worship times. The message?  Christ, light of the world, remains unshakable as we learn to ‘wait’ for God to fulfill His promise. Here in Kenya, observing Advent is not a particularly common practice, so we introduced it to our THQ family. We’ve made a wreath from an old Christmas tree and found some candles to use.  In a country where uncertainty is always just below the surface, it was appropriate to begin our reflections with the candle of HOPE.  

At home, we placed our miniature tree and modest decorations (less is more!) in the corner of our living room while sipping a cold beverage in shorts & t-shirts (a first). Our special ornaments still reflect what we value most – family and friends and the handmade wooden Nativity set (a gift from Sherman & Dona Stryde) points to what’s important.  We confess we are still adapting to the absence of planning and enjoying our family gatherings this month– though grateful we had Christmas Day in October! J And happy that Don and Denise are coming on Dec. 23.

Last week, I reached for one of my favourite Christmas books by Stormie Ormartian. The short chapters echo how God fulfilled his Genesis promise to provide a Saviour for fallen humanity.  As I read again what happened to Zechariah, I began to stir a little and in the midst of all I know to be true, some gnawing questions caused me to wonder …

Biblical text: Luke 1

Why does it sometimes look like God treats people differently?  I know He doesn’t but the appearance occasionally surfaces. Why was Zechariah punished when he doubted and questioned God but Mary wasn’t?  When an angel told Zechariah that Elizabeth would bear a child (the forerunner to Jesus), he was afraid (‘gripped with fear’) and asked: “how can my wife possibly become pregnant when she has been barren for years and is now very old?” Logical inquiry. When the angel emerged later to Mary announcing her pending conception, she also responded with fear and unbelief.  “How can I conceive when I am a virgin?” Yet, Zechariah was given a silent tongue for the whole of his wife’s pregnancy - more than a little embarrassing if you ask me. He was a priest and speaking was essential, wasn’t it? At the same time, Mary’s doubting was left as it was. I know it wouldn’t be easy for Mary to face her situation and her community. She would be ridiculed and potentially ostracized.  No doubt that was more than enough to contend with, but why the consequences for Zechariah?

What did the priest do to deserve this? Simply question God? In character, Zechariah is an upright, faithful man, even blameless. So why this? Is the whole conversation not recorded? Did his bewildering escalate into a further argument? Was God really punishing him for some sin? One scholar suggests Zehchariah’s question was one of needless doubt when he should have truly believed, but Mary’s question was simply childlike faith with a normal query “how can this be”?  

Does it really matter though? Was God expecting a better response from a mature spiritual man than from an innocent, naïve young girl?  

Perhaps we will never know the answer to our Christmas questions, like other mysteries about God. So ... is it more a matter of truth?  Bottom line - we do not always understand why certain things happen to some people and not to others. The questions continue.

Why does the ‘permissive’ will of God allow tough things to occur without some reasonable rationale?  I remember something that happened in our family a long time ago.  One of my first cousins, a young man in his early 20’s, was murdered. His parents, my aunt and uncle, were (and still are), godly Christian people. Surely they must have asked: why Lord? I don’t know if the answer ever came.

To consider God punishing Zechariah for some character flaw seems highly unlikely and uncharacteristic of God’s nature. Perhaps the better question is: how did Zechariah eventually respond? Jerk reactions seldom reveal our truest self. When we stay with the story, both Zechariah and Mary accept what God revealed to them. They were humbled and trusted God for what they did not understand. 

We will not always reason out our circumstances or find a cause for what God gives to us. It is unlikely we will ever explain why ‘bad things happen to good people’ or why some situations seem unwarranted, unjust, or just plain tough in the moment and we wish it were different. It’s true in the face of enormous global injustice and it can be true in the privacy of our own context. Perhaps the only invitation God gives us is one of deep trust. Trust in His unchanging good nature, His sovereignty to see what we cannot. And His promise that one day all things (public and private) which seem unequal and unfair will be reconciled in a better way. 

God came into the world. “He took on flesh and moved into our neighborhood.” (John 1:12, The Message). He is one with us – in every situation of life. He is not always understood. He is always good.